Aikotoba
by FushigiNoKuniNo
Summary: Seven drabbles for Yatori Week 2016
1. Hatsukoi

Hiyori Iki was running, gasping, her lungs burning. Heedless, she plunged onward, the rain mingling with her tears and soaking her hair. She was deaf to all but the sound of her footfalls on the slick pavement and the thundering of her thoughts.

 _"_ _You must really love Yaboku."_

When Yato's father said that, her first thought had been: _of course not_. Of course not! Yato was just…Yato. He followed her around like an excitable puppy, whined constantly to get his way, and on occasion climbed through her window without warning. She hadn't been lying when she said she wanted to be with him, but neither was she exaggerating when she'd called him a pain in the ass. But as she stammered out her defensive reply, she felt the tiniest flicker of doubt.

It was ridiculous, really. Yato so much as putting his face close to hers—he'd never shown any hint of understanding the concept of personal space—had her flustered and blushing. She had ignored it, pushing it as far to the back of her mind as she could. It was the least of her concerns, anyway; the hospital, Bishamon's treason, and the god's greatest secret had given her more than enough to worry about. But now…now, she wondered.

 _When did it start?_

It had been a normal day, for once: one of those rare periods of peace between crises. After school, she headed to Kofuku's place, which had reverted to its normal pleasant atmosphere now that Yukine had forgiven his mentor. Maybe she would get a chance to talk to Yato about her idea for celebrating Yukine's birthday.

She didn't know why it had happened just then. Just as she rounded the corner into Kofuku's living room, and saw him standing there. He wasn't looking at her: his gaze was focused on the shrine—her shrine—in his hands, and on his face was the softest, warmest smile. The smile of someone who had felt a thousand, thousand heartbreaks and somehow, impossibly, loved all the harder for it.

That smile, she had seen before. She knew who he was, and how he felt—about the tiny, imperfect shrine she had carved, and about her. Of course she knew. But, she realized as the tears came unbidden to her eyes, and she felt her entire world collapse under the unimaginable weight of her heart, she hadn't understood.

 _When did I start loving you so much I couldn't stand it?_

So she ran.

And as she ran, the days and weeks and months crashed down upon her. All those times she had said one silly thing or another, and found herself backtracking, hastening to assure the others that she hadn't _meant anything_ by it.

 _I'll come see you every day._

 _I want to be with you forever._

She had meant _everything_ by that; she was just the last to know.

Now that she did, it all would change. It had to, she knew. Even if she never told a soul. She would never again be able to ignore that longing to be closer to him, even though what she treasured most was being together the way they always had. What would happen to _that_ Yato and Hiyori, now? She could count so many times she had feared that her Far-Shore family would never recover, but none of them scared her half as much as this.

Hiyori collapsed, at last, falling to her knees on the wet pavement of a bridge where an irresponsible god had once told a clueless girl that trite and singular phrase: _may our fates intertwine_.

She loved him. She loved him, and what the _hell_ was she supposed to do with that information?

He found her there a quarter of an hour later, still crying as if the world were about to end. He knelt, and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Hiyori?"

She didn't reply, but neither did she move away, so without a word he pulled her into his arms. She sobbed against his chest, fists clutching his jacket.

Finally, to Yato's immense relief, she cried herself out, and pulled back.

"Yato."

"Uh. I'm not going to ask if you're ok, since you seem very...not ok." His face was full of confusion and dismay.

"Thanks," she sniffled.

"We should probably go inside somewhere though. It's...very wet."

Hiyori laughed a little, and nodded.

"Yeah, you look like you fought a swimming pool and lost."

Yato scoffed in mock indignation.

"Well, you look like a cat that's been tossed in the bathtub."

"Wha—augh!" Hiyori's tail puffed up as she realized with horror that she'd dropped her body. "Where did I lose it!?"

"Back at Kofuku's; don't worry," Yato said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible while snorting with laughter. He stood, and helped her to her feet. "C'mon, drippy." Hiyori huffed.

"Call me that again and I'll Jungle Savate you into next Tuesday." Still, she took his hand, and he was surprised when she grabbed onto his arm to walk closer to him.

"Do you wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"I will. But not now." So they could be just Yato, and just Hiyori, for a little while longer.

 _Just a little longer._

He nodded. Hand in hand, they walked home.

xxx

A/N: I totally forgot to upload these over here, whoops! Well, here they are now.

The prompt for this was "Firsts" so I went with "First Love" (because I am incapable of doing prompts straightforwardly)

+10 points if you got the Fruits Basket reference.


	2. Yume

A/N: Day 2, "Protect"

xxx

"Yuuukiiineee!"

Yato padded down the stairs from their attic room, running a hand through his uncombed hair. Hearing his blessed regalia's grunt of reply from the direction of the living room, he peeked his head around the door frame.

"Have you seen Capygami?"

Yukine simply raised an eyebrow from his position on the tatami. He was lying on his back, book held in both hands above his face.

"The _what_?" said Daikoku, appearing from the kitchen. He unceremoniously shunted Yato to the side to pass through the door with the tea tray, eliciting a whine from the god.

"The stuffed Capyper he sewed that dumb outfit for," replied Yukine, still not bothering to sit up.

"It's not dumb! We're _twinsies._ " Yato followed Daikoku into the room. "Oh, hey Hiyori! You're here early today!" Hiyori smiled from behind her teacup, but Yukine was the one to reply.

"It's almost noon, you useless sack of crap."

Punishment for this comment was delivered in the form of Yato sitting down next to the boy and ruffling his blonde hair affectionately. Kofuku giggled as Yukine, trapped, made various noises of disgruntlement and swung his book in the general direction of his master's face.

"Well, Yato-chan, where'd you see it last?"

" _He_ ," began Yato reproachfully, "was right by my shrine yesterday. But now I can't find— _augh!_ That was my eye!"

Yukine sat up, looking pleased to have landed a hit.

"Yato," said Hiyori at last, "isn't he right over there by Daikoku's seat?" Following her gaze, Yato found that the plush was indeed there, propped against the nearby cabinet.

"Capygami!" he squealed, oblivious to the glance Hiyori and Yukine exchanged. "...But what is he doing down here?"

"Maybe he got sick of your obnoxious sleep-talking," Yukine grumbled.

xxx

Two weeks later, Yato entered the room, tiny Capyper dangling from one hand, to find Yukine and Hiyori back at their usual studious pursuits.

"Well, where did you find him?" inquired Hiyori politely.

"He was out on the porch," said Yato.

"It _is_ a nice day."

"Yeah...I just wish I knew why he kept running off like this. This is like the eighth time!"

"Well," said Hiyori, leaning back on her hands, "you can't expect him to stay in your room all the time. He probably gets bored."

"Hmm..."

Several minutes of silence followed. Yato looked pensive. Hiyori and Yukine perused their textbooks, finally regaining their focus after the interruption.

"OH!" Yato's shout made the other two jump.

"What the hell?" said Yukine indignantly.

"He needs a friend! Capypers are social creatures," Yato explained scientifically, "so he must be lonely being left by himself."

Yukine gave Hiyori a look of exasperation, but she just smiled.

"That's a great idea!"

xxx

"Yato, we're going to wait out front!" called Hiyori, as she and Yukine stepped out of the _genkan_. Yato was busy retying Capygami's floofy-floof for the fifth time ("he has to dress to impress!"), so Hiyori thought it best that they wait elsewhere, before Yukine became impatient enough to start looking for potential bludgeoning objects.

"Well, thank god you knew where to find a mall with a Capyper Store," said Yukine in a low voice, "Otherwise, I'm sure my idiot master would have gladly spent our entire food budget for the month on going back to Capyper Land to buy another doll. You know how he gets."

"Yukine-kun," said Hiyori, with a sympathetic smile, "I really appreciate you helping me with this. I didn't meant to make things more difficult on your end..."

"Eh? No, no, it's fine. It's a good idea. Honestly..." he sighed, "I'm glad he's having fun. It seems to take his mind off all of the horrible shit his father has caused, at least a little bit."

They dropped the subject as a loud scuffling from inside the house announced Yato's imminent emergence. Moments later, he threw open the front door and jumped out.

"Yay! Let's gooo!" he yelled, starting off so fast that the others had to jog to catch up. By the time they arrived at the mall, both Hiyori and Yukine were out of breath.

"Yato...please...just give us a second..." Hiyori wheezed. Yato appeared not to have heard, charging off toward the Capyper Store.

"Oooh, look at this! And these! Do I need a Capyper sugar bowl? I think I do..."

"Yato, focus," commanded Yukine, trying valiantly to avoid the clothing section.

"Oh, right." Yato moved to the stuffed animal displays, looking at the small-sized plush options. He gasped. "Guys, look! Looooook!" He pointed to a Princess Capyper in a lilac dress. "This one is so cute! She looks just like Hiyori!"

"...You're treading the fine line between compliment and insult, dude," warned Yukine, but Yato wasn't paying attention.

"Wow! So adorable! She even has velcro on her paw, so I can just..." he trailed off, carefully linking the tiny arms of the Princess Capyper and his own jersey-clad one. "Squee!"

Yukine shrugged at Hiyori helplessly. She laughed.

"Ok, you want this one, right?" she asked, gently detaching the dolls.

"She's perfect," gushed Yato.

"Alright, you two wait outside while I pay." Yukine took her up on this without hesitation, dragging his reluctant father-figure from the shop. By the time she joined them, the colorful bag containing her purchase dangling from her wrist, Yato was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Ooh! Ooooooh! Open it," he squealed, pointing at the bag and waving his Capygami everywhere.

"What, now?"

"Um, _yes!_ You can't leave her in that vinyl prison," chided Yato. Hiyori smiled in amusement and extracted the Princess Capyper from the bag, holding it in both hands.

"Okay, so now Capygami has a friend, and he won't be lonely anymore."

" _Girlfriend_ ," Yato corrected.

"Wait, what?"

In lieu of reply, Yato stepped closer—much closer—to her. With one hand, he gently lifted both of hers up so they were level with her lips, and with the other...bonked the faces of the Capypers together.

"Smooch!"

Then was gone again, heading off toward the doors. Hiyori, face bright red, just stared after him.

"I told you he'd get carried away," said Yukine, giving her a firm whack from behind to snap her out of her reverie.

"U-Um, yeah...that's...um..." She gave up, walking away in the direction Yato had gone. Yukine followed, smirking.

"Idiots."


	3. Ito

A/N: Day 3, "Fates Intertwine"

xxx

"You could be a great god: the kind that could make people happy."

Yato had spent years without anyone acknowledging his right to exist. The years became decades, then centuries. To the other gods he crossed paths with, his long life was an oddity at best, unforgivable at worst.

Sometimes, he couldn't remember why he bothered. Life stretched on and on, but with nothing to live for. People multiplied, roads grew in size and number, shrines were built and burned, but nothing really changed. One war became another, until he wondered how people deceived themselves into calling anything "peace." The trail of blood before his eyes was unbroken. When he laughed, it was only at the idea that there was anything in the humanity that had created him worth saving. Still, he lived.

He almost longed for the days when he had found purpose in killing, and wished he had changed as little as the world itself. But Sakura _had_ changed him: just a bit, but enough. Enough to want—though maybe not believe in—someone who could bring meaning back to his existence, and that half-remembered feeling of warmth back to his heart. So he went on, absurdly, as if pretending to hope would make it real.

Then, one day, it was. He hadn't thought about it until Ebisu said it directly: that it was alright for Yato to have lived, and to keep living. That it was something a proper god would do. When he'd heard that, what surprised him most was how unsurprised he was; when he later told Yukine he wanted to be a god of fortune, it was more of a formality than a revelation. Because one day, without even realizing it, he had stopped trying to convince himself he had a reason for being, and started believing it.

On that day, a human girl had lifted him up, skin burning with blight. She had carried him to Kofuku's house, and cried and screamed so that, even through the haze of pain, he heard her every word. Neither had he missed her coming back with Kazuma, and he _knew_ she knew how dangerous that had been.

Yato hadn't been willing to let Yukine go, not for anything—he understood the kid more than anyone had ever bothered to understand _him_ —and he had seen from the start that it could mean the end of his long, long life. _So be it_ , he'd thought. He'd had enough of that selfish existence: of being a _god_ but feeling so _powerless_. But Hiyori had been there. She had saved them both, and when she threw her arms around them and sobbed " _I'm so glad you're alright_ ," he realized for the first time that she had done it because she cared about them.

Since that moment, he had gained so much. Yukine, the unique and irreplaceable regalia he had spent centuries searching for. Kazuma, Kofuku, and Daikoku, who had been there for him the whole time, even though he had been too foolish to see it. And Hiyori, well, she saved him more times than he could count (from himself as well as others) and gave him everything he'd ever wanted, plus some things he hadn't known he needed. With her, he began to move forward again, and remember what he'd once forgotten.

Contrary to popular belief (which he encouraged, more often than not), Yato wasn't an idiot. He knew there would be no forgiveness or atonement for what he had done. The idea that good and evil somehow balance out had always been a human contrivance: a convenient psychological trick to lessen the weight of guilt and drive away fears that the world might just be arbitrary after all. But Yato was a god, and he would bear the weight of the past in exchange for the promise of the future. If he now had a chance to become someone she would be proud of, he wouldn't wish to change even one step of the path that brought him here.

This was the fate that had lead him to her.


	4. Iwanu

A/N: Day 4, "Thank You"

xxx

He had lost count of the "Thank You"s that had gone unspoken.

For saving his life once, and again, then a third time.

For not turning her back on him when she had every reason to.

For telling him he was her god of fortune.

For being his best friend.

He had tried, once, to thank her, when she had built him that small, slightly lopsided, completely perfect shrine.

"Thank you, Hiyori. I'm glad I didn't give up." His words were heartfelt, and sincere, and not good enough. Not nearly good enough.

So instead, he promised he'd make her the happiest girl in the world, and thank her in actions where words had fallen short. He had been there to tell her she could choose a career she didn't love, to catch her every time she fell asleep on her books and started to slide out of her chair, and to comfort her through all the nights she spent awake, convinced she would never make it through the next day.

She had, of course, because that's how stories go. The brave, clever girl overcomes all the challenges she faces, until one day, she grows up. Maybe, along the way, she loses some things, like a pretty shoe or her belief in magic. But that's alright. She grows up, and succeeds on her own, without imaginary friends, or gods. And eventually, the woman forgets she had ever known them in the first place.

So Yato stood outside the imposing hall on Hiyori's university campus, wondering if anything he'd done had made a difference. Had he been able to make her happy? Had he been able to give her anything, however small, that would stay with her forever?

He was brought back to earth by a swift kick to the shin.

"Ow! Oi!"

"Snap out of it, idiot. We're going to miss the whole thing if you keep standing here heaving melodramatic sighs." Yukine was understandably cranky: the fallout from Kofuku's latest "oopsie" had been extreme, and Ebisu had called in all of the gods he knew to try to prevent Japan's economy from tanking...again. They'd been staying at his estate in Takamagahara for the past few weeks, technically, but had hardly had time to sit still, let alone sleep.

The crisis had been deemed over not an hour ago, so after stopping by Bishamon's to borrow a suit from Kazuma (who collapsed face-down on his bed, groaning as Yato rummaged around in his closet), they had rushed directly to the graduation ceremony.

"But..." began Yato. He always worried. He couldn't help himself.

"We've been over this: we haven't been gone that long. She hasn't forgotten us. You freak out about this _every time_ and it's always fine." Yato's only response was a plaintive whine.

Yukine wondered how much dry-cleaning would cost to have blood removed from Kazuma's suit. He settled for grabbing Yato by his tie and dragging him inside, instead. "C'mon, you giant baby," he said, as Yato made some very satisfying choking noises.

xxx

Yato handed her the flowers they had brought, watching her face light up as she clutched them against her blue and black robes. She had joined them immediately after the ceremony, exercising her mysterious ability to find them in any crowd.

"Thank you," said Hiyori, "I'm so glad you made it!"

Yato was more relieved than he ought to be, he knew. And, for once, he didn't play it off with a joke, the faux cheeriness that said _I'm fine, I'm always fine_. Instead, he reached over and tucked a wisp of hair that had come undone from her bun when she'd run over to meet them behind her ear, not lowering his hand from her face even after the strand was back in place.

"I missed you."

He could tell from the warmth of her smile that she understood.

"I missed you, too."

"Brother alert!" Yukine interrupted. Turning to see Masaomi fighting his way through the sea of people toward them, Yato quickly shoved his hands back in his pockets.

"Ah, Yato, I figured you must be here somewhere," Masaomi grinned. Then, turning to Hiyori, he said, "I've held them off as long as I can, but mom's getting really antsy. We need to get going."

"Ugh," Hiyori groaned, "she's going to make me take like a million pictures..." As she turned to head off, she said, "I'll come over to see you guys later, ok?" Yukine nodded enthusiastically—though it was unclear whether this was at the prospect of seeing her later, or the nap he would get to take in the meantime—but Yato called after her as she walked away.

"Don't forget!"

"I won't," she laughed, turning her head to stick her tongue out at him.

 _Thank you._


	5. Chiryou

A/N: Day 5, "Kiss"

xxx

"So if there are any other wounds I can get that'll help you practice for medical school, just let me know. Well, unless it's the face. I like my face."

Yato was rambling from atop his futon in Kofuku's attic room, propped up by a masterfully designed stack of every pillow in the house, courtesy of Yukine. Hiyori was wrapping bandages around his hand with the utmost of care, but her own shaking hands were clearly causing her difficulty. She had come over after school to help Yukine with this laborious task—Yato's shoulder bandage was a two-person job, and even so it was a struggle to get everything done without reopening one wound or another—and was now finishing up alone as the young shinki took care of the discarded bloody linens.

Yato had hoped to ease the tension a bit, but Hiyori hadn't even looked up when he spoke. He was disturbed to think this was becoming par for the course: she hadn't looked him in the eye, let alone spoken to him, since she and Yukine had half-carried, half-dragged him home yesterday.

"Yato, I'm…I'm so sorry, I…" she had said, words almost too soft to be heard, "If there's anything I can do to help, please…"

At the time, Yato had laughed her off.

"In that case, just come over like you normally do. If you're around, Kofuku won't feel the need to 'help,' so I'll actually have a shot at keeping this arm attached."

Now, though, he was becoming seriously worried. Her behavior was most un-Hiyori-like.

"Hiyori?"

No reply.

"Hiyori. Look at me."

She didn't.

"Hiyoriii," he whined.

Nothing. He decided to go for broke.

"Hiiiyoooriii, you're making me saaad!"

That worked, sort of. She still didn't look at him. She did, however, burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "I'm sorry! I was so stupid! I knew exactly how bad things were, and you were already so hurt, and…and I asked you to save Bishamon anyway. You could've died, and I…" she took a shuddering breath, still holding his hand up despite having finished her work. He could feel the bandages moistening from her tears as she finished in a whisper, "I couldn't do anything. It's all my fault."

"Me doing the right thing is usually your fault. Or Yukine's. Is that really such a bad thing?"

"Yato—"

"No, seriously. I spent hundreds of years just looking after myself, Hiyori, but now I know there are more important things. Maybe that _is_ your fault, but I sure as hell don't regret it." Hiyori finally looked up at him. He let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding, and continued, "Saving Bishamon was the right thing to do. And I…well, I was happy when you asked me to do it. Made me feel a little like I was being brave, instead of just stupid."

He attempted to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, but this backfired spectacularly as the muscles in his entire arm lit up like fire in protest. He winced, hissing in pain. Hiyori jumped.

"Oh, no! It really does hurt, doesn't it?"

"Well, I think my window of opportunity to lie about that has closed, so yes, yes it does."

"Um, well, ah…" she flailed around helplessly, "is there anything I can do?"

"You can kiss it and make it better," he joked.

So, raising the hand she still held in both of hers just a little higher, she pressed a kiss on top of the bandages.

…

…

 _…What!?_

"Uh," was all he managed to verbalize, eyes wide. At that, Hiyori's head snapped up, face beet red. He could read from her deer-in-the-headlights expression that she had done it without thinking.

They both sat there in silence, staring at one another. Then, before he could process what was happening, Hiyori dropped his hand, grabbed a pillow at random from the stack, and shoved her face into it. Unfortunately, it had been a weight-bearing pillow…

A minute later, Yukine walked in to find bits of stray down floating through the air, Yato prone on the floor, and Hiyori gently screaming into her pillow.

"Guys, what the actual f—" he began, but was cut off by Hiyori's abrupt exit.

" _Gottagobye_ ," she squeaked, bolting from the room with the pillow still covering her face.

After a few seconds, they heard the sound of a collision downstairs.

"Uwaaah~ It's Hiyorin! Are we having a pillow fight?" Several more thuds followed.

Very much wanting to have nothing to do with whatever was going on down there, Yukine turned back to his master.

"Dude, your shoulder is bleeding again," he pointed out, "Like, a lot."

"…Worth it."


	6. Todoku

A/N: Day 6, "Shrine"

xxx

Hiyori reached out to brush her fingertips against the small shrine adorning her desk, reassuring herself that it was still there. She had taken to keeping it with her every time Yato and Yukine were gone for any stretch of time, to make sure she didn't forget. _No_ , she inwardly corrected herself, to make sure she didn't forget _again_.

She sighed, picking the shrine up in both hands, and moved to sit on her bed. As she held it in her lap, she wondered for the hundredth time why Yato's father hadn't told him yet. He had made it plain to _her_ that he knew what she had done: that she'd broken the most important promise she had ever made. She'd forgotten.

She hated it. She hated that Yato's father had something to hold over her. She hated this secret, and all of the memories associated with it. She hated that it was like a ticking time bomb, bound to destroy everything eventually.

Most of all, she hated herself.

She knew Yato would have to find out someday, and it would be better coming from her than his father. She ought to have told him already, just to get it over with, after she'd rescued him from Yomi, or when he asked her about the kiss. But she hadn't, out of fear of his reaction, and the "right moment" became more distant with every passing day.

It wasn't that she expected Yato to get mad. Quite the contrary. She was sure he would smile, and tell her it was no big deal, or not to worry, because everything had turned out fine. Inwardly, though, he would shatter. Not out of surprise; no, Hiyori was sure he had been expecting this all along, which was almost the worst part of it.

She lay down, placing the shrine next to her bed with care. She turned off the light, and, not for the first time, cried herself to sleep.

xxx

A slim figure nudged the window open, and, catlike, jumped into the room.

Yato had returned and, despite the lateness of the hour, had found himself unable to sleep until he'd seen Hiyori. This was often the case. He was sure that if she awoke she would kick him through the earth's crust, but he just had to make sure. That she was safe, and alive, and real.

He walked over to her bed and, not for the first time, saw the tear tracks on her cheeks. Her hands were balled tightly, and she had kicked her sheet mostly off. Even asleep, she sniffled a bit as she breathed.

Yato frowned, brushing her bangs away from her face to get a better look. He wondered, as he had on other nights, what she had been crying about. She never mentioned anything that would give him a hint during the daytime. She was always bright and cheerful, giving _them_ a shoulder to cry on, or kind words to make _them_ smile.

How much did it cost her to be their light in the darkness?

Sighing, Yato gently readjusted Hiyori's blanket. She seemed to relax, somehow, as if his mere presence were a comfort to her. _Ridiculous_.

He walked back to the window, giving the shrine on her nightstand a fond look as he placed his foot on the sill, and stepped out into the night.


	7. Kyori

The light of the moon shone in through the thin paper of the shoji, falling across the half-Phantom's face. She sat up in irritation; she hadn't been able to get any sleep as of yet, and the trend looked to continue for the foreseeable future. Hiyori stood, and tiptoed past Kofuku—who somehow even looked excited to be asleep—to exit the room they were sharing with Bishamon and her female regalia.

Hiyori's group had found themselves invited on Bishamon's work retreats with regularity after the incident with Nana the previous year: she suspected the war goddess was attempting to express her thanks without having to resort to actually saying the words. Perhaps Kazuma's residual guilt played a part in it as well, though she knew the two offended parties had forgiven him long ago. Sliding open the front door of the imposing traditional inn, she stepped out into the warm night. She was immediately much more comfortable than she had been inside, the light fabric of her yukata allowing her to feel the gentle breeze.

She found him not ten minutes later, standing atop a hill and gazing at the moon. It was full tonight, and hung low in the sky; it seemed to her so much closer than usual. She stopped a fair distance from the god. She had followed his scent without thinking. Having come here with no real purpose, she just stood, looking at him looking so far away.

Silhouetted by the moonlight, he looked unearthly, as if the whole scene has been painted in chiaroscuro. His pale skin stood in stark contrast to his dark yukata and hair, slightly ruffled by the wind. She knew that if he were to turn to face her, she would see eyes so blue that they seemed to glow brighter than the moon itself. At times like these, she could truly appreciate that he was a god: an ancient existence that generation after generation of humans had tried and failed to capture in words or images.

As she wondered what he might be thinking about—wondered if it were even in the realm of her comprehension—he seemed utterly out of her reach. Though she could see him standing right in front of her, the distance was unbearable. Impulsively, she ran forward and grabbed his hand. He turned to her in surprise.

"Hiyori? What are you doing out here?"

She didn't reply. She couldn't reply, because his eyes shone just as brightly as she'd known they would, and the look in them was just as far away as she had imagined. It broke her heart. So, saying nothing, she let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around him. Anything, _anything_ to close the distance between them. After a moment, he returned the embrace, holding her ever so gently until she relaxed against him.

"Hey," he whispered, bringing one of his hands up to cup her cheek and tilting her face upward. Her anguished eyes met his confused ones. She suddenly became aware of how closely their bodies were pressed together, and thought his heartbeat seemed a little faster than usual. She could feel his breath on her face.

Truth be told, this wasn't the first time they had been in this position since the frigid winter evening on which they clumsily confessed their feelings. But Hiyori had always found some excuse to break away, or turned at the last second, or outright run. After all, it was new, and awkward, and very, very embarrassing.

Now, she couldn't quite recall why any of that mattered. As she rose up on her toes, and he dropped his hand from her face in surprise, she was quite sure all that mattered was him. And as they kissed, she felt herself tremble from the tips of her fingers down to her toes, and lost herself in how warm and real and _close_ he was.

Neither was in a rush to break the kiss, but she eventually pulled away. When she looked up at him again, she saw wide eyes and a face that would surely have been the color of a tomato in brighter lighting. In that moment, he looked so indistinguishable from any gobsmacked guy in his early 20s that she burst out laughing.

"Hiyori!?" he asked again.

"Sorry," she said, regaining her composure, "I was just feeling kind of lonely."

"...So you _kissed_ me?"

"Er," she cleared her throat, "um...yes?"

There was a brief pause. Hiyori felt her own face getting increasingly pink.

"Well," he said finally, "I'm always glad to help, so you should _definitely_ keep coming to me with your problems. Any time. _Any time at all._ "

"Oh, shut _up_ ," she replied. She turned to look out at the moon over the edge of the hill, studiously avoiding his eyes.

He grinned and wrapped an arm around her waist. She gave a little huff of exasperation, but leaned into him. Content to just be near one another for a while, they both gazed up at the night sky in silence.

So they stood, the girl and the god, their thoughts not, perhaps, so distant.

xxx

A/N: The last prompt was "Tsukuyomi" n_n

Thank you for reading! :D


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